


Trepidation

by prepare4trouble



Series: Little By Little [8]
Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blind Kanan Jarrus, Confessions, Ezra needs a hug, Gen, Jedi Training, Kanan needs a hug, Space family, Visually Impaired Ezra Bridger, Wishful Thinking, Zeb's secret waffle stash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-18 11:43:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9383459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prepare4trouble/pseuds/prepare4trouble
Summary: It's official now, Ezra is going blind.  He realizes he's eventually going to have to tell Hera and the others, and begins to prepare accordingly.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This one follows on directly from the end of First Steps and The Plush Tooka.

Kanan was roused from his meditation by a hesitant knock on the outside of his door. He gave himself a second to pull himself back to reality, before reaching out through the Force to check who was there. Ezra.

He climbed to his feet and pressed the door release panel. “Hey,” said Ezra as the door was still sliding open. His boots shuffled uncomfortably on the floor, while the fingers of one hand drummed audibly on the wall just outside Kanan’s room, “You said training today, but you didn’t say when, or where. And I thought, this is the only place on the whole base where we know nobody’s going to be watching, so…”

Kanan had half expected not to hear from Ezra at all today. He had even gotten so far as to think about where he might go to hide; where the best places to look for him might be. The last thing he had expected was for him to show up at his door. It was a good kind of surprise though, but that was tempered by the reason for his visit.

He stepped to one side, opening up access to the room, and Ezra walked inside and allowed the door to close behind him. “I’d have been here earlier,” he said, “but I got caught by Sabine. She’s still trying to catalogue all the weapons, ammo and explosives on the base. It’s impossible, because things are always being used and replaced, but she’s asked me to help count some stuff later. I said I would.”

“That’s fine,” Kanan assured him. If Ezra was worried he was going to be trapped there all day, he needn't be.

Ezra took a deep breath. “Great. So…”

‘So’ indeed. Kanan cleared his throat. “Sit down,” he suggested.

Ezra hesitated for a moment, then crossed the room and sat on the one chair. Kanan perched on the bed. Silence again, and the smallest flash of apprehension from Ezra, quickly squashed down before it was allowed the opportunity to take hold. “Sabine also said she’s trying to decide if our lightsabers should go on her list of weaponry or not. I think she’s leaning toward not, since they’re not for general use, but then, neither are a lot of things that _are_ going on there, so if you’ve got any idea what she should do, you should speak to her.”

“I think leaving them off might be better,” Kanan told him.

“Sure. I’ll tell her that later. When I s… see her to find out what needs to be counted.” He tapped his foot rhythmically on the floor. “Did you know we have three crates just marked ‘weapons’ that nobody’s ever opened? There could be anything in there. What do you think…”

“Ezra,” Kanan interrupted. “Stop.”

He did. Silence filled the room instantly, followed by the repeated sound of Ezra’s tapping toes. “I just thought it was interesting,” he said.

Kanan nodded, but disregarded the conversation; “How are you?” he asked. “After… everything?” If the last couple of days had been tough on Kanan -- and they had been -- he didn’t even want to imagine what they had been like for Ezra.

The mid-level anxiety that had followed him into the room peaked before disappearing entirely behind another block. He cleared his throat. “I’m fine,” he said, unconvincingly. “Great.”

Kanan nodded. He didn’t challenge it; not yet. He had been ‘fine’ himself for a long time too. He still was, though at least half the time he wasn’t lying any more. “That’s good.”

“So,” Ezra shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I guess you’re going to teach me about, how to…” he tailed off.

“Yeah,” Kanan told him. He rested his chin on his hand and considered it. Honestly, he didn’t know how. He barely understood himself what he did. He was still figuring things out, and he had no idea how to put into words the concepts for which he didn’t even have a name. He had never thought that he would have to teach this. Or if he had considered it, it had been purely theoretical; something that he might try to explain at some point in the future, if Ezra might find it interesting.

He had never, never, thought that Ezra might actually _need_ it like he did. Like he was going to.

“First, there are some things we have to talk about,” he said. 

Instantly wary, Ezra scraped the chair backward slightly, as though backing away from him, but remained seated. “Like what?”

Kanan frowned; it was difficult to explain. He knew, in theory, what was happening with Ezra’s vision. He had sat through the appointments, he had worked out for himself beforehand the things Ezra was having difficulty with, but knowing in theory and understanding were very different, and there were times when that understanding would be important. Exactly what Ezra could and could not see mattered, even if it was in a constant state of flux.

“I understand the course this thing’s going to take; I know what it’s doing. What I don’t know is what that’s like from your perspective. Does that make sense? What’s it like right now, for you?”

Ezra laughed. A short burst of something that sounded more like blaster fire than amusement. “It’s great,” he said, in a tone that dripped with sarcasm.

“That’s not…” He had known that wasn’t what he meant. The response had been an attempt to deflect the question, and Kanan had almost fallen for it. “Right now,” he repeated, “for example. In this room, with the light levels as they are; the main light is on, right? Are you having any trouble? Can you see at the moment?”

“Yes!” Ezra told him, forcefully. “Of course I…” He stopped, ran his hands through his hair, and took a breath to calm himself. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s a bit… it’s not great even at normal light levels; a bit blurry, you know? But that's barely noticeable right now.”

“Okay, so how about if I turned off that light, and switched on the one by the bed? It’s the same as in your room, so we don’t need to do it, just imagine. What difference would that make?”

“It… wouldn’t be too bad,” Ezra said, hesitantly, then paused. “Hey, did you know some of the base personnel have built a still?” he asked. “Someone told me about it the other day. Apparently the stuff they’re making tastes disgusting though; they offered me some, but they didn't exactly make it sound appealing.”

Kanan traced the wall near the head of the bed with the tips of his fingers until he found the control for the bedside light. He turned it on, and the main light off. “It is disgusting,” he said. “But it gets the job done. Rex helped build the still, actually. So, with the light now, what’s that like?”

Ezra hesitated, presumably looking around and trying to come up with the right words. “It’s fine near the light,” he said. “If I was over there, probably not. Over… away from it, I mean. Or if I…” He got to his feet and turned around, putting his back to the light source. “If It’s behind me, my own shadow gets in the way. I can still see, but not well.”

Kanan switched the main light back on, and Ezra sat back down.

“It’s not too bad,” Ezra assured him. “It’s nighttime that's the worst. If the sun goes down and I’m away from the lights on the base. Or when the lights are out, but it’s still light enough for everybody else to see, and I can’t because my eyes just won’t… You know when the light goes off suddenly and it takes a while for your eyes to adjust? It’s kinda like mine just won’t do it any more.”

That made a kind of sense to him. It was something that he could imagine at least. “In future, if you can’t see, if you’re having trouble, you need to tell me, okay?”

Ezra shifted uncomfortably. “Okay.” He thought about it some more. “I can’t think of anything I could say that wouldn't be obvious. I could cough three times, or something like that?”

Kanan frowned, momentarily confused, until he realized what exactly Ezra meant. In case somebody else was around, he wanted some kind of a code. “Ezra…” he began.

Ezra tensed noticeably, anticipating what he was about to say.

“You can’t hide this forever; sooner or later you’re going to have to tell them.”

“Hey, did you know the mechanics also have this dokma racing thing going on? They’ve set up a track, and bet on which one gets from one end to the other first. I had a go the other day, but I lost two ration bars.” He laughed. “I managed to convince them that the disgusting ones were all I had. Pretended they were my favorite and they fell for it!”

Kanan hesitated. He didn’t want to push too hard, but this was one of the things that they needed to discuss, and they needed to do it soon. Secrets were inevitable, even in a close-knit group such as theirs, but there were two kinds of secrets: those that mattered only to the person keeping them, and those that could potentially impact the people around them. This was definitely the latter; not only because if Ezra’s eyes failed him on a mission and he was unprepared, it could be disastrous, but also because of the impact Kanan knew for a fact, from both sides of the equation, the news would have on those around him.

“Ezra,” he said again. “You have to tell them.”

Ezra sighed deeply. “I know,” he said. “But not yet, okay? Don’t make me… Telling you was bad enough; just, don’t make me do it again yet. Let me do it in my own time.”

“Your own time,” Kanan repeated. He had waited over a year before telling Kanan, and then had only done so because Kanan had already known.

“It won’t be as long as last time, I promise.”

That was a promise that he would be forced to keep, because if Kanan’s understanding of the syndrome were correct, in another year’s time, his vision would have deteriorated to the point that it would be impossible to hide.

“Okay,” Kanan agreed. “It’s your secret to tell, it’s your decision when to do it. Within reason.”

“Fine,” said Ezra. “So, you were going to teach me some things, can we do that now?” Instead of talking, and especially instead of talking about _that_ , the implication was clear.

Kanan got to his feet and walked across the room with slow, measured steps, thoughtful. It wasn’t as easy as that, and he had no illusions that Ezra believed it would be _easy_ as such, but there was no one single thing that he could teach him that would work.

It was many things, sometimes combined together and sometimes used individually. It was sensing things through the Force, but it was also building up a good knowledge of familiar areas without needing to do that. It was an awareness of other people, their presence in the Force, sometimes their emotions communicated in the same way, but also learning how to listen more carefully than you even thought you would need. Recognizing sounds that would have gone unnoticed before, and mentally translating them into actions.

But more than that, a lot of it was simply getting used to it; resigning yourself to a new reality, learning how to work within it. Teaching yourself how to trust your remaining senses, and how to fully understand the information that they could provide.

He reached the other side of the room, stopped, turned and walked back again. Just a few short months ago he would have been able to do that only haltingly, feet barely lifting off the ground, hands searching ahead of him for any indication that he had reached his destination. He would not have done it in front of another person, with the possible exception of Hera. And in a situation like this, he would not have done it at all; where there was no need to move, he would have chosen to remain still rather than go to the effort.

Now, he hadn’t even thought twice about it.

But now that he had, he found himself analyzing the exact method he had used. How exactly had he known when he was approaching the wall at the other side of the room? Had his awareness through the Force communicated the information to him, or had he been subconsciously keeping track of the number of steps? This was a place with which he was very familiar; would his methods have been different had he been somewhere else?

He couldn't teach something if he didn’t understand it himself.

“Kanan?” Ezra asked, hesitantly.

He sighed and tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear. This whole situation reminded him suddenly of another conversation, one where their roles had been… not exactly reversed, but something like it. After their return from Malachor, when he was sufficiently recovered to be out of bed, but not sufficiently competent or experienced to actually be able to do anything or go anywhere. Just well enough to be frustrated at his newfound inability to do anything at all.

That was a place that he never wanted Ezra to have to visit.

“Do you remember when I first…” he raised a hand to his face, indicating his eyes. He could talk about it now, and did, sometimes, but he was suddenly acutely aware of the effect certain words used to have on him, and he wasn’t quite sure yet how far along that journey Ezra was.

He was met by silence, the sound of Ezra’s breathing, and then finally in a small voice, “Yeah.”

“You came to visit me one day,” he continued. “At the time I thought you…” He had thought that Ezra had had a vision warning him of what was coming, and had found out in advance how to deal with it. In reality, of course, the technique Ezra had shown him had been forged by his own experiences. Even then, he had been struggling with this alone for months. “You taught me something; how to use the Force to concentrate on the area just ahead of me, how to sweep the ground, check for obstacles so that I wouldn’t trip, do you remember that?”

Silence. The complete and total silence of a person not moving, barely even breathing as he waited for a continuation. Of course he remembered. Kanan didn’t need a confirmation of that fact.

“It helped,” he said. “I used it, and I adapted it, and later I integrated it into the lessons the Bendu taught me. I still use it every day. I… just realized, I never thanked you for that.” He hadn’t been in the right place emotionally at the time, and later, it had just seemed too late. Until now.

Ezra didn’t respond.

“If you can do that, it’s a start. It’s a really good start that you can build on.”

More silence, and then, “I can’t do that,” Ezra admitted. “I mean, I _have_ done it once or twice, just to try, and it seemed to work, and before you… I was thinking one day it might… But it’s not something I need… yet. I mean most of the time.” As he spoke, his voice decreased in volume until it was little more than a whisper, and Kanan could hear the grief caught within it.

This wasn't going to work, Ezra just wasn’t in the right frame of mind to do this now. He wasn’t going to be able to take anything in; so much of what he needed to know, he would only be able to learn by practical experience. To understand how to move around and sense the world without vision, Ezra was going to have to do just that, but if Kanan pulled out a blindfold now — not that he had one with him — or even if he just suggested closing his eyes, to try some things out, he wasn’t sure how Ezra was going to react.

“Okay, that’s fine. When we start working on this, that’s the first thing we’ll try, but I think,” Kanan said carefully, “it might still be too early to think about that. You’re still processing this, you need to give yourself time to come to terms with it, and while you do, there are some other things you can be working on. In between your usual training, of course.” Because there was a chance of letting that fall by the wayside now, if they weren’t careful; of making everything about this, and not only was that not healthy, it wouldn’t be particularly useful either, for anybody concerned.

Ezra considered that. He took a deep breath and held it for several seconds before exhaling slowly. “I’ve known about this for a year, Kanan,” he said. “It’s new to you, not to me.”

And that was true, in a way. “There’s a difference between knowing something, and having something officially confirmed.” A truth with which he was intimately familiar; no matter how ready he might have been be for that official prognosis, it had still hurt when the last piece of hope had been ripped away.

“Yeah, well,” Ezra said, “thanks for dragging me off to see the droid then.”

His tone sounded like a joke, but Kanan could tell that it was anything but. He didn’t reply, he couldn't think of anything to say.

“That was a joke,” Ezra told him.

“In the meantime,” Kanan told him, “two things. Being open to the Force; it’s something that you can do in short bursts, but you’re going to have to be able to keep that up for longer periods. Not with the same intensity as during battle situations, but an awareness of what’s happening around you is important.”

Ezra sighed. “If you’re going to say meditation…”

“If you can find something else that works for you, fine, but I’d start with that for now. Just sit, and feel the Force, be aware of it, listen to what it can tell you. Once you start paying attention, you might be surprised at what you can learn.”

“Meditation,” Ezra repeated, sounding a little dejected. “Great.”

“We’ll do it together, sometimes it’s easier that way. It’s been some time since we tried that, but you _will_ find it useful.”

Kanan resisted the urge to backtrack and let him off that particular task. It was important, and as much as Ezra found it difficult, the sooner he learned to connect to the Force in that way, the easier he would find things. Not to mention, Kanan had let him off one too many times before, and had he not done that, Ezra might be further along in that regard, and have that little bit less to have to learn right now. Ezra’s difficulty with meditation was his failing as a teacher, not Ezra’s as a student.

“You know, you’d have thought all those generations of Jedi would have thought up a better way to spend their downtime than sitting around with their eyes closed,” Ezra said. “So, what’s the second thing?”

Okay, so maybe the fault was partially Ezra’s after all.

“Remember that you have four other senses; pay attention to them, be aware of what they are telling you. Listen to the sounds that everyday actions make, remember them; it’ll help you be aware of what’s happening around you. Sound is the big one, but pay attention to how things feel, smell, even taste, when it’s appropriate. Take notice of distances, how long it takes you to move from one place to another, for shorter distances, how many steps.”

Ezra didn’t reply. He had gone very quiet and still once again.

“Listen to people’s voices; facial expressions and body language tell you a lot, but you can get some of that back by listening for the inflection in someone’s voice. Sometimes, that can be better and more reliable than sensing someone’s emotions thorough that Force, because that only tends to work for something someone’s feeling deeply.”

“Like now?” Ezra asked quietly, after a long pause.

Kanan reached out, both through the Force and physically, resting his hands on Ezra’s shoulders. Ezra’s feelings actually appeared clouded, mixed; anxiety, and a deep sense of dread, but mixed with curiosity.

“How much of what you do has nothing to do with the Force?”

Another way to ask may be, how much is not so much replacing sight with the Force, but learning how to do without? In how many ways was Kanan, and by extension, in how many ways would Ezra be, just like any other blind person; no more equipped to handle it than somebody without access to the Force?

Kanan flexed his fingers, giving Ezra’s shoulders a reassuring squeeze, but he didn’t lie. The Force did not make up for his sight; no matter how much information he could glean that way, there would be always be things that he missed. “Enough that it’s important,” he said.

He felt Ezra’s shoulders drop as he slumped slightly. “Okay,” he said.

“But the other things are important too,” Kanan promised him, “and we’ll get to them. When you’re ready. We have time.”

Ezra sighed deeply and swiped quickly at his eyes. Kanan didn’t mention it. Instead, he squeezed Ezra’s shoulders one more time, and then let him go. Drawing attention to his student’s distress would not help anything. It was strange, the things that got to you. Things you never expected; things you did expect that affected you differently than you anticipated. 

“I’m going to show you all of it,” Kanan promised him. “The Force stuff and the other, in as much detail as you want. But for now, all I’m asking you to do is be aware; both of the Force and your other senses. Just think about what you’re experiencing and how.”

“Okay,” he said again.

Kanan forced a smile. “So, that’s for later. For today, shall we go the the cargo bay and see if you can add a few more objects to the total you can manipulate in the air? We’ll get you to twenty by the end of the month; I’m determined.”

Ezra relaxed noticeably at the mention of something familiar, and got to his feet. “I bet I can do it before then,” he said.


	2. Chapter 2

Hera rubbed her tired eyes as she stared down at the mission reports for the last few scouting expeditions. Very little of any actual value had been discovered, but the teams had found enough to imply that it was worth continuing with the explorative missions while they had a little downtime. Besides, the reports that the teams filed listed information on the planets themselves, which would be vital information if they ever needed to scout for new base locations.

So the missions weren't a total loss, but if she had been hoping someone was going to trip over a super-weapon that could destroy the Empire, she would have been disappointed.

Her eyes attempted to close of their own accord, and she forced them open, propped her head on her hands, and made herself keep reading. That super-weapon might still be in there somewhere, but it may not be obvious.

Next to the stack of mission reports, the slowly-decreasing list of “sites of possible interest” lay, waiting for the next group of expeditions to be decided. She stifled a yawn and turned a page. The door chimed as she did, and she looked up to tell whoever it was to come in, but before she could open her mouth, the door opened to reveal Kanan, two steaming mugs of something in one hand.

“I don’t know about you,” he said, “but I could use some company tonight.”

Hera smiled. “Always,” she told him.

Kanan stepped over the threshold into her room and crossed the distance between them in a few steps. He touched the surface of her desk with his free hand to locate a patch of surface free of paperwork, and then placed the two mugs there. He pulled out a chair and sat down.

She reached for one of the mugs gratefully, clasped it between both hands and felt the warmth seeping through the sides and into the palms of her hands. She inhaled deeply, and frowned. “This isn’t caf,” she said.

He shook his head with a slight smile. His ponytail was tied more loosely than usual, and the stray strands of hair around his face moved as he did. He had left his mask behind in his quarters, and his eyes were closed. “It’s triaglog tea,” he told her.

She sniffed the steam rising from the mug again.

“I thought you could use something to help you wind down, not to keep you up,” he added.

“Isn’t that a sedative? I still have mission reports to go over,” she told him doubtfully. But the tea did smell delicious. She took an experimental sip.

Kanan apparently noticed, because his smile widened slightly. “A very mild one; it’s not like I’m offering you a glass of the moonshine they’re making in the still,” he said. “It’ll barely do anything if you don’t want it to, but at least it won’t wind you up like caf would. I could use something that…” he tailed off and shook his head, then took a sip of his own drink. “So, what are you working on?”

She looked down at the paperwork before her on the desk. “Just going over the information from the recon missions; checking out what’s been found so far, deciding where might be best to go next. Cursing the guy that made a list of points of interest and didn’t bother to tell us what he had found so interesting about them.”

“What guy?” Kanan frowned, confused.

“Namah Neimi, it’s his list we’re working from.”

No more the wiser, Kanan shook his head. “Never heard of him.”

That was surprising. Hera cast her eye over the list of worlds in front of her. “He was a pilot, about eight years ago. Before he joined the Rebellion, he spent a lot of time working alone with his own crew.”

“Sounds familiar,” he told her.

“Yes, but he traveled from planet to planet looking for anything that could help in the fight against the Empire and constructing a list.” She slid the stack of paper toward him, then stopped, realizing what she was doing. Instead, she reached for his hand. He allowed her to take it with no resistance, and she placed it on top of the stack, pressing one of his fingers against the edge to give him an idea of the volume of information stored there.

Kanan frowned, clearly surprised. “Is it written in a really large font?” he asked.

“Nope, he just visited a _lot_ of worlds. And apparently he found a lot of things interesting. So there might have been a burgeoning resistance movement growing on that world, or some crashed Imperial vessel that could be salvaged for information or parts, or there could be one of his own weapons caches there somewhere. One place, the team that visited is fairly sure he just put it on the list because it was a pretty beach. They had a nice day out, at least. Or there could have been something there years ago that’s gone now. We just don’t know, and unfortunately, he died not long after, so I can’t ask him about it.”

Kanan withdrew his hand from the stack of papers and took another sip of his drink. “How long has this been going on?” he asked, clearly puzzled as to why he hadn’t known about it until now.

She shrugged. “Months, on and off. Whenever we hit a lull in activity, we go back to it. While half the squadron are concentrating on the missions in the Cathonie system, the other half might as well go on a few trips out and report back what they find.” She blew lightly on the surface of her drink to cool it.

“So, I take it they don’t tend to find much?”

“They find plenty. How much of it is useful is a different matter. We did have a team last week come back with a couple of TIE fighters left abandoned, another found a crashed ship, not salvageable, but there were some droids still active that can be re-programmed. Most of them aren’t a complete loss.” She took a larger sip of her drink now that it had cooled. She could feel herself relaxing already, so much for Kanan’s assertion that the effects were mild. Somehow though, she was no longer falling asleep, she just felt relaxed. Of course, there was always a chance that that was the company. “I was thinking of sending Ezra and Sabine on the next one,” she mentioned.

For a moment, something clouded Kanan’s expression, some tension or worry, but before she could comment on it, or even process it, it was gone. He buried his face in his own drink and took a long sip. “Anywhere interesting?” he asked.

“Probably not. The second moon orbiting a planet called Riechend, it’s been marked with a cross on the list, so there’s a chance there’s something of use there. If not, it’ll give them something to do. We’ve all been cooped up on the base for too long, something’s definitely been bothering Ezra, you’ve said it yourself, and I know Sabine’s getting frustrated with this weapons catalogue she’s working on. It’ll be good for them to do something else for a while.”

Kanan appeared thoughtful. “It may not be the best time,” he said. “Sabine might not be enjoying what she’s doing, but it does need to be finished.”

Hera frowned. “I’m sure a little time away won’t hurt.”

“Not to mention, I don’t want to get behind on Ezra’s training. We’re working on some… important things at the moment. It’s not a good time to take time out.”

She sighed, and drained the last of her mug. “Sabine specifically asked me for one of these missions, and I’m not going to tell her no. Ezra… I suppose if you need him here that’s fine, I don't want to second-guess your teaching methods, but I really do think a break would do him some good. If you really can’t spare him for a few days, maybe you could go with them?”

“Um…” Kanan looked unimpressed with that suggestion. He tapped his fingers lightly on his mug as he thought. “The second moon of Riechend? You know, I’ve heard of that place. The ground is made largely of sulfur, I hear it’s pretty… fragrant.”

He left that statement hanging in the air. Hera waited for a continuation.

“You know,” he said, mind clearly searching for excuses. “You know, bad smells… they’re worse for me now… Think about it, they’re offensive to a fifth of your senses, to me it’s a full quarter.” He smiled, a little too triumphant.

She folded her arms and stared at him, not quite sure what to make of that. “You’re kidding, right?” He shrugged apologetically, and she sighed. “You’re lucky you brought me tea, and I’m in a good mood, or you’d be on a tour of the worst-smelling locations in the galaxy, starting tomorrow. But fine, I’ll let you off this one time. And you can keep Ezra, if you really must, but Sabine is non-negotiable.”

“I’ll talk to Ezra,” Kanan told her. “See how he feels about it, give him the option. Just, don’t assume he can go, okay?”

She sighed. “There’ll be other missions,” she said. “For both of you. I feel like you could do with a distraction too.”

“Me?” Kanan finished the last dregs of his drink, almost turning the mug upside-down in an effort to catch the last drops. “What about you? You’re sitting here working in the middle of the night. If anybody needs a break it’s you.”

There he went again, changing the subject. And he might be right, but that wasn't the point. “There has been something bothering you,” she told him. “And it’s gotten worse lately.” She squared the stacks of paperwork on her desk and turned off the datapad she had been using to program the information into the base’s computer systems. She glared at him. “What is it?”

Kanan’s eyelids slipped open briefly and then closed again, but not before she caught a glimpse of the damaged eyes beneath. That was how she knew she was onto something; that particular action was reserved for when he was caught by surprise. Her own eyes narrowed in response.

“What is it?” she asked again. “You don’t drink this stuff unless there’s something keeping you up.” She tapped her empty mug with her nails. “If it’s something I need to know…”

“It’s not,” he said quickly, then faltered slightly. “It… might be. But not yet.” He turned away, just slightly, putting his face in profile to her, head tilted downward. Hera found herself hesitating for a moment, before she got to her feet and walked around her small desk to stand in front of him. She reached out and touched him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “What is it?” she asked for a third time, urgency creeping into her voice now, a touch of worry. It was bad, whatever it was, for it to be doing this to Kanan.

He shook his head and got to his feet. “I can’t,” he said.

“Kanan…” Hera chewed slightly on her lip and tried to read something in him. He was worried, that much was obvious, and he was trying to hide the depth of his concern. He had come to her for comfort, but with no intention of even telling her that there was a problem, let alone what it was. “Is it… are you…?” 

“It’s not me,” he said. His voice sounded tight. He paused, thoughtful. “I can’t say too much yet. It’ll all come out eventually, but for now it’s not my secret to tell.”

She took him by the hand and gently pulled him toward the small couch she had had installed next to the bed. She sat down, and he sat beside her, and suddenly he just looked so tired. She placed a hand around his shoulders and began to knead some of the tension away. “Whatever it is, it’s getting to you. Sometimes talking helps, even if you can’t go into specifics.”

She felt him relax incrementally under her careful ministrations. “There’s someone on the base,” he said. “H… they…I can’t say what it is, but they have a… problem. It’s not…” He sighed.

His eyes were slightly open again, not shock or surprise this time, simply the act of letting his guard down, just a little. She looked at them, careful not to stare for too long; it simply didn't seem fair somehow, but she missed them. Even without their vibrant color, it was good to see them again.

“I guess it’s not the worst thing that could happen, but it’s bad, you know? They didn’t intend for me to find out, but I did.”

“Okay,” Hera told him. “How did you find out?”

Kanan shook his head. “It’s not important, but they don’t want anybody else to know, and that’s possible for now; they can hide it. They won’t be able to do that forever. If people knew, they would be able to help. They’re making it harder on themselves, and it’s going to be hard enough already.”

She nodded. “And they’re making it hard on you, too. Making you keep the secret for them.”

He frowned, but nodded.

“This secret,” Hera asked him. “Is it a threat to the Rebellion? Or to the base?”

He shook his head. “Nothing like that.”

“Then you need to stop worrying about it,” she told him. “It doesn't matter what you think is best, if they want to keep their secret, let them. If you were never supposed to know, forget about it. You can’t force someone to make a good decision, their choices are their own. Their mistakes too.”

“It’s not that simple,” he told her.

Of course, no matter what it was that he knew, no matter what he couldn't tell her, everything was that simple. People were responsible for their own actions. Clearly, Kanan didn't want to break the confidence he had been accidentally placed in, and so there was only one thing that he could do. “All you can do is encourage them,” she told him. “They must have family, friends, people that care about them? Remind them of that; people care about them, and they’ll want to help.”

He nodded slowly.

“You said they won’t be able to hide it forever?” she asked. “It it something that’s getting worse? Some medical condition, or…”

“I can’t say,” Kanan told her.

Hera nodded. He just had. “If people are going to notice something eventually, maybe you could remind the person that it’s better to do it in their own time. Let them be prepared for it, sit down and have a discussion about it, rather than letting someone else ambush them with it when they’re not ready. And if it’s something that’s going to affect their ability to do their job…” she stopped. That didn't need to be said; if that was the case, it wasn’t an issue now, or Kanan wouldn’t be holding back. He knew the importance of honesty in that regard. “Beyond that, it’s their own decision. Sometimes people have a good reason for keeping a secret. How long did you go before being honest about being a Jedi?”

“That’s totally different,” Kanan assured her.

“Well, I wouldn’t know. Not without knowing what the problem is.” She gave the muscles of his shoulders a final squeeze. “The point is, people sometimes have a good reason not to want everybody to know something. If it’s not hurting anyone, it might be better to let them keep their secret for now, while they can.”

He frowned, and he looked as though he wanted to say something else, but couldn’t. Instead, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes again and sighed. “You’re right,” he told her. “But just try to remember…” he stopped before he could finish the thought. He didn’t sound convinced but at least he sounded satisfied, to a certain extent. If he could help the person, he would. If he couldn’t, perhaps, he would stop worrying about it.

Kanan’s hands found her shoulders and gently turned her around, his fingers began to work into the muscles of her shoulders and upper back, returning the favor. She felt herself relax, the tea and the company doing its job as her own worries began to melt.

She knew they would return in the morning, but that was okay. For tonight she could relax; apart from a few mission reports to go over, she had relatively little to worry about anyway, and safe with the person that she trusted more than anybody else, she could fool herself into believing that everything was right with the world.

She wondered how long that was going to last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are both encouraged and appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

“Try not to think about the other stuff,” Kanan told him. “Today, we’re just having a normal sparring session, don’t let yourself get distracted.”

Ezra screwed up his face in concentration, but not getting distracted was easier said than done. His mind just wouldn’t quiet, which hadn’t helped his aborted attempt at meditation the previous night any more than it was helping his focus right now. 

Kanan feinted to the left and then attacked from the right, a move that Ezra should have been able to anticipate easily. He missed the opportunity to block, and leaped back instead, catching himself off balance and just about managing not to fall to the ground.

“Okay.” Kanan deactivated his lightsaber and clipped it back to his belt. Ezra hesitated for a moment before doing the same. “Believe me, I know you have other things on your mind, but you need to be able to concentrate on what you’re doing. What if this wasn’t just sparring? What if you came up against some dark-side user? Do you think they’d cut you some slack because you’re having a bad day?”

He was right, of course; Ezra had to get his head back in the game, or he was likely to lose it. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Kanan’s expression softened and he sighed. “It’s fine, I know your mind’s on other things, just…” he shook his head, “just don’t let those other things become all you think about, okay? It’s not a good path to start down.”

Ezra tapped his fingers distractedly on the hilt of his lightsaber and slouched against the wall of the cargo bay that had become a makeshift training arena for the day. Honestly, he didn’t understand why he felt this way. As he had said to Kanan the previous day, the diagnosis hadn’t been news to him. He hadn’t just suspected what was happening, he had known it right to his core, he had spent months thinking about it, about how he would cope, about what life might be like once the condition had run its course. He had accepted it as a fact, and while the idea frightened him, it wasn’t new to him. It shouldn't be affecting him like this now.

Only, of course it should. Kanan knowing, having to talk about it, the droid… it wasn’t surprising that the whole thing was being pushed to the forefront of his mind, rather than at the back where he normally stored it. Suddenly, it was impossible to pretend.

“Hera wants you to go on a mission with Sabine.”

That might be good, actually. A chance to get away, to just be around somebody who didn’t know. He didn’t know how long he had before he would have to start telling other people, it could be his last chance for things to be normal. Well, no, that wasn’t true. Normal would adjust according to the world around it, same as it always did, but he liked the normal he had now. Or rather, the one he had had last week. A chance to get it back for a few days would be nice.

Kanan walked over and leaned against the wall next to him. “I… told her I didn’t know if you could.”

“What?” He turned and stared at Kanan, mind racing. “Why? Why would you… what did you tell her?” He hadn’t… surely he wouldn’t….?

“I told her we had training to do,” Kanan said.

Well, it wasn’t inaccurate. Ezra relaxed, then frowned. “Wait, you don’t want me to go?”

Kanan folded his arms, thoughtful. “I didn’t say that,” he said. “But if you do go, we need to have a serious discussion about it first.”

“What’s the mission?” Ezra asked, carefully sidestepping the discussion.

“Recon, some long-dead pilot made a list of interesting places…”

“Oh, old Namah Neimi’s list,” Ezra said. “I guess we’ve hit some downtime again, did she say where we’re going?”

Kanan frowned. “Does everybody know about these missions?” he asked. “How did I manage to not know?”

Ezra shrugged; as far as he knew, they were general knowledge. “They don’t tend to be that interesting,” he said, “pretty low risk; get in, take a look around, write a report on the way home. Bring stuff back, if it’s something you can carry.”

Of course, there had been the time a team had almost been killed by the inhabitants of one world, and another that had ended up having to shoot their way out of a secret Imperial base. But you couldn’t win them all.

“I can do it,” he added. “You don’t need to worry about the…” he couldn't think of a way to say it without saying it. “…you know.”

“I know,” Kanan told him. “I’m not worried.”

He sounded worried. Ezra folded his arms and slouched harder against the wall.

“I’m not going to stop you going,” he said. “But if you do want to go, at the very least I think you need to tell Hera and Sabine. Hera’s responsible for the mission, Sabine will be relying on you, and if there’s a chance your sight is going to let you down, she needs to be aware of that.”

Ezra shook his head, and found that he couldn't stop. He couldn't do it, he couldn't tell them. “There isn’t,” he said. “A chance, I mean. Of that.” It wasn’t a promise that he could make, not really. He heard himself making it anyway and didn't try to stop.

Kanan appeared unconvinced.

“I’ve been okay for…”

“You’ve been lucky,” Kanan told him. “That’s not going to last forever. Sooner or later, something’s going to happen and you’ll find yourself in trouble. Anyway, you as good as admitted, you’re distracted right now, do you think that’s going to help matters?”

Ezra closed his eyes for as long as he could stand it. He took a deep breath. “I’ll tell them,” he said. “Just, not yet. Please.”

Kanan reached out and touched Ezra on the shoulder. He opened his mouth as though to say something, but then hesitated. He nodded instead. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Not half as sorry as Ezra was. Or… maybe that wasn’t true. “How about if you came with us on the mission?” he suggested. It wouldn't be the same, but it could appease Kanan’s concerns if he was there to help if anything went wrong. Which it wouldn’t.

“I… can’t,” Kanan told him. “Hera suggested I go, I…” he grimaced slightly. “There’s a chance I may have given her a reason not to.”

“What reason?” Ezra asked.

He shook his head. “I’ll tell you later. Maybe. But I came up with an excuse for you too, and this is the one and only time I’m going to cover for you.”

Ezra resisted the urge to leave the room. Instead he straightened his slouch slightly. He hadn’t wanted Kanan to cover for him. He might want it in the future, if it was a one-time offer, he would have preferred to cash it in when he needed it.

Something told him that that might not be the best response.

“I won’t go,” he said instead, hating the words even as he said them. He was still going to have to tell them eventually, but this way at least he would get a few days’ reprieve.

Kanan nodded, looking sad. “Okay,” he said.

“I will tell them,” Ezra added, as though saying it again might make it true, or easier. “I just don’t want to do it all at once like that. If I tell Hera and Sabine, I’ll have to tell Zeb too, and Rex, and… I don’t know. Everybody.”

“If you want, I could…” Kanan began, hesitantly.

Ezra shook his head. “Maybe for the others. I have to tell Hera, Zeb and Sabine myself.”

“You know, if you’re not going to go on the mission, Hera’s going to send Zeb instead.”

Ezra frowned and looked away. “Great. Good for him.”

“Yeah. Probably not, I’ve heard that moon’s made of sulfur. But my point is, they’ll be gone. If you want to talk to Hera alone, this is the perfect opportunity.”

He considered it. He had, what? Two days? Three? Would he be ready in that amount of time?

He couldn’t imagine being ready if he had months to prepare. What would he do? How would he say the words? Would he even be able to say them? It had been hard enough with Kanan; if it hadn't been for the fact that his master had clearly already worked out his secret without being told, the words would have remained unspoken.

“Wait, did you say sulfur?” he said instead.

Kanan nodded. “So I heard. I think you made the right decision.”

But that decision involved telling Hera in just a few short days. How was he supposed to do that?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey, Hera. Remember that time when Kanan went blind? Well, funny story…”

"So," Ezra said, reclining in his chair and trying not to sound jealous or wistful. "Mission starts tomorrow, huh?"

Sabine gave him a strange look, like that had been an unusual thing to say. It was, he supposed. "Yeah," she said. "Funny thing, Hera originally said _you_ were going to be coming with me, now all of a sudden it's Zeb. What's that about?"

"Oh, uh...". Ezra frowned and rubbed at an itch at the tip of his ear. "You know..."

Sabine's suspicious look deepened slightly.

"Jedi stuff," he clarified. "Yeah, Kanan and I have a bunch of important stuff we need to do, so we figured..." He ran his hands through his hair, and hoped he was being convincing. He didn’t feel convincing. "You know, not an important mission, so..."

"Oh, thanks for that." She scowled at him. "It's always nice to know you think my time is valuable."

Oops. "No, no. That's not..." He sighed. "That's not what I meant. It's just, my stuff is more important than..." No, that wouldn't work either. "It's..."

Sabine laughed and shook her head, "You should probably stop now, I think the hole you've dug for yourself is deep enough, don't you?"

He sighed. "Yeah, probably. Sorry."

She shrugged. "It's fine. I know it's probably going to be a waste of time, but I'm looking forward to getting off the base; how long has it been since we went on a real mission?"

“About a week?"

Sabine thumped him lightly with a loose fist. "Fine, you're probably not far wrong, but all this time on a planet? Doesn't feel right to me, you know? Can you go stir crazy when you can go outside whenever you like?"

Ezra shrugged. "I dunno. I think they call that agoraphobia? You know, if you love being cooped up on the ship that much, you could always sit around here and pretend we're in space."

She went to hit him again, but he dodged this time and laughed. "Missed me."

She scowled.

"You know the mission you're going on is to a planet, don't you? Wide open spaces everywhere… Sure you can handle it?”

“It’s a moon, actually,” she informed him.

Ezra shrugged. “Whatever it is, I hear there’s a _really_ bad smell there, so… sucks to be you guys.” He placed his hands behind his head and mimed leaning back, relaxed, “I’ll just be here, hanging out, doing Jedi stuff.” He grinned. Did it look forced? It felt forced, but she didn’t _seem_ to have noticed anything; she just looked vaguely annoyed.

“Wait, what do you mean ‘bad smell’?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Just something I heard. Well, enjoy…” He grinned, a genuine one this time, got up and made a swift retreat, leaving her glaring after him.

 

* * *

 

The Ghost felt unnaturally quiet without Zeb and Sabine. No argument over breakfast that morning, deciding who got the last waffle. No waffles at all, actually; they were all out, and although he was fairly certain that Zeb kept a secret supply somewhere, he had so far been unsuccessful in locating it.

Maybe that was something he could do while he was left behind. He wouldn’t take them all, but maybe one or two? Zeb could probably be convinced that he had eaten more than he realized, and Ezra felt that he deserved some comfort food. If he could locate them, he could hold off on eating them until after he t…

Told Hera.

He pushed that thought to one side for now. Good things about not being on the mission; he didn’t have to listen to Zeb’s snoring. He would be able to leave the light on all night -- that had become something of an issue between them lately, and it wasn’t like he could blame Zeb for that; after all, he didn’t know why…

He was going to have to tell Zeb soon too. And Sabine.

Zeb would probably give him his waffles if he asked, after that. He wasn’t going to ask. He probably wasn’t going to steal them either, but he was going to find them, and then if he ever _did_ need them, he would know where they were.

He couldn’t actually imagine ever needing them, not right now. The sick, queasy, feeling in the pit of his stomach left him feeling certain that he would never be hungry again.

* * *

_“Hey, so… something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” He feels nervous, but he manages to remain calm._  
_Hera is curious, but not worried. Calm. She smiles at him. “Okay.”_  
_“Yeah, it turns out I’m going blind. I’ve got this thing called…”_  
No. No, that wasn't going to work. He wasn’t going to be able to just blurt it like that.

_“Um… So, I…” he scratches his head and looks everywhere but at her. “I’m… It’s like this…”_  
No, he needed to get the words out. If he couldn't even do it in his head, what hope was there for him?

Okay. Deep breath, don’t burt, don’t stammer.  
_“Hey, Hera. Remember that time when Kanan went blind? Well, funny story…”_  
Oh, this was going to be a disaster.

Okay, skip ahead. You’ve got the important bit out, what then?

_Hera shakes her head. “How?”_  
_“I’ve got this thing called…”_  
   _“This thing runs in my family. It’s happened a bit earlier than…”_  
     _“It’s okay. No, really, I’m going to be fine, Kanan’s already taught me how to…”_ Uh… something? Note to self, learn something so you can say you have.

_Hera shakes her head. “No, you’re not. I’ve heard of that, it turns out there’s a cure. There’s a really common plant that grows on Ryloth that will fix that in a second.”_  
Don’t do that, Ezra…  
   _“There’s a rare plant that only grows on a planet deep in the heart of Imperial territory, but we’ll get it for you.”_  
     _“I’ve updated Noisi with more modern medical information, and it turns out they discovered a cure last week. He can give you it now, if you want.”_  
       _“So, we’ll have to bandage your eyes for about a month, so you’ll be essentially blind for all that time, but after that you’ll be able to see perfectly again, so it’s worth it.”_

“What are you thinking about?” Kanan’s voice cut through the daydream, dragging him back to reality.

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

Kanan looked unconvinced. “We need to talk about Hera. If you’re going to tell her while Sabine and Zeb are away…”

“I am,” he told him.

“Then you need to think about the best time. Some time when she’s not busy with something else; I’ll check her schedule to make sure, but I think she’s got some free time tomorrow morning.”

Ezra frowned. “Yeah, wouldn’t want to mess up her schedule,” he muttered sarcastically.

“Actually, I think this is going to mess up a lot more than that,” Kanan said. “I’m just thinking you don’t want to get all fired up to do it and find she’s in a meeting for the rest of the day. I mean, she’d leave if I asked her to, but it’s not ideal.”

Tomorrow morning. It was sooner than he had anticipated. But maybe that was a good thing; get it over and done with. Maybe hold off on breakfast, it wasn’t like he was going to be able to eat anyway. Then afterward, maybe the waffles.

He needed to find the waffles.

Without saying a word, he got to his feet and slunk out of the room.

Kanan let him go without comment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are loved. Seriously. They encourage me too, which you may think is either good or bad, depending...


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kanan was right, of course; this was the perfect opportunity. The thing was, he had already let a lot of perfect opportunities come and go.
> 
> Not this time; he was really going to do it. Probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final part of this story. Fair warning, it does appear to end without a resolution. The next story will begin very quickly, to the extent that if I hadn’t put this message here, you probably wouldn’t even have noticed.
> 
> Which makes this note a bit pointless, huh? Ah well. Enjoy the fic anyways!

This time last week, everything had been fine.

Okay, no. Things had been far from fine, but it had been much easier to pretend. Yes, he had known, in a vague, not-thinking-about-it kind of way, that he had an eye condition. He had known what it was, what it was called, and the basics of what was going to happen and when, but he hadn't actually _thought_ about it in months. It had drifted into his head from time to time, only to be quickly buried again, filed under 'things to deal with later,' later being, preferably, never. Or at the very least, so far into the future that he didn't have to worry about it.

That situation couldn't possibly have lasted for much longer than it did, and he had known it at the time. He had very carefully not thought about that either.

It had only been at those times when something had happened; when somebody had either said or done something to push it to the forefront of his mind, that he had really considered the future. That, or he had found himself unable to clearly see something that he had had no problem with the week before, and that slow, rising sense of terror had crept up on him before he could suppress it. The vast majority of the reminders had come via Kanan; if his master had been able to see, Ezra thought he might have been able to go even longer without thinking about it.

Of course, if not for Kanan, he liked to think that he would have told them all long ago, after Malachor, as had been his plan at the time. He liked to believe it, but he wasn't so sure. 

In a way, it was good that Kanan knew now, because he wasn't going to let Ezra get away with putting it off. And Kanan was right, of course; this was the perfect opportunity. The thing was, he had already let a lot of perfect opportunities come and go.

Not this time; he was really going to do it. Probably.

"Ready?" Kanan asked.

Not even close. He pulled in a deep breath and tried to force a smile, not that it would make any difference to Kanan. He tried to say that yes, he was ready. His body rebelled against the lie, his throat seizing and the word barely even coming out as a whisper.

He was seated on Zeb’s bunk, purely because it was easier to drop down onto there than to climb up to his own and let his legs dangle over the edge. Zeb was off-world, on the recon mission with Sabine, so it wasn’t like he was going to walk in and tell him to move.

Kanan crossed the room in a few short steps and sat down next to him. The bed dipped just slightly as he did. Ezra didn't look at him, keeping his gaze directed straight ahead. He knew that he was there, but he couldn't see Kanan out of the corner of his eye. Over the past few months, what counted as the corner had moved further and further to the center, and he had barely even noticed until the med droid had pointed out the progression of the condition.

The light was on, and as high as it would go, more than enough for him to see by, but the view blurred noticeably. Not badly, but perhaps slightly more than the week before, and more than enough to serve as a reminder that things were not as they should be.

As if he needed a reminder.

Kanan was right, it was time.

“It’ll be okay,” Kanan promised him.

Ezra nodded, vaguely wondering whether he meant the act of telling Hera, or… everything. Either way, he was probably right, but from where he sat right now, Ezra couldn't imagine that ever being true. But one day, this would just be a distant memory. On that day, he would look — no, he wouldn’t — back on this time and wonder what he had been so worried about.

“How am I supposed to say it?” he asked in a quiet voice. It was hard enough saying it inside his own head; how was he supposed to even bring himself to voice the words, let alone consider the perfect ones to use. This was why he had failed so many times before.

But this time would be different, because Kanan was with him. That would help, right?

“I… don’t know. I never had to tell anybody,” Kanan told him.

That was true, he supposed. It was also not useful.

“I had to _be_ told,” Kanan added. “I mean, I knew already, but officially told. It was…” he tailed off. “Not relevant to this.”

Ezra continued to stare straight ahead, half afraid of what he might see if he glanced in Kanan’s direction. It had to have been rough, but: “I bet you never went and hid in the bathroom,” he said.

Kanan breathed a quiet laugh and placed an arm around Ezra’s shoulders. “I might have,” he said. “If I’d known how to find it.”

That _really_ shouldn't have been funny, but somehow it was, and once he started laughing, he couldn’t stop. It wasn’t the frightened hysteria of those moments during his first appointment with Noisi; it was the kind of genuine laughter he hadn’t experienced in what felt like years, and despite everything, it felt good.

When he was done, he wiped the tears from his eyes with his fingers and took a deep breath. He felt… better. Not okay, not by any means, but it felt easier to believe that things would be okay. But for that to happen, he was going to have to get the difficult conversation out of the way.

“I’m sure you’ll know what to say at the time,” Kanan told him. “And if you need me at any point, I’ll be right there. You’re not doing this alone.”

Ezra took another deep breath, and nodded, more for his benefit than Kanan’s. Yes. Yes he could do this. Yes, he was… not ready, but more ready than he ever had been before.

“You still have a few days before Sabine and Zeb get back,” Kanan added. “If you want to wait a little longer. It doesn’t _have_ to be now.”

He considered it. “No. Let’s get it over with.”

Kanan nodded. He pulled out his comm device and activated it to call Hera.

“Spectre One to Spectre Two. Hera, have you got a minute?”

Her surprised voice on the other end of the line reminded Ezra that communicating in that way was not usual on the base, she was going to realize right away that something was going on. “Kanan, what is it?”

Kanan hesitated for a moment too long, and the voice on the other end of the sounded worried.

“What’s wrong.”

“Nothing,” Kanan said automatically. He shifted his position uncomfortably on the bed and sighed. “Well, nothing’s any worse than it already was… We can’t do this over the radio, can we meet you somewhere?”

A short pause, and then, “We? You and…?”

“Ezra. It doesn’t have to be right now, but… sometime today?”

Ezra held his breath, not sure whether he wanted her to say she was coming now, or schedule a slot later on.

Hera didn’t hesitate. “I’m on my way,” she said. “I’ll meet you on the Ghost in five minutes.”

The comm unit went dead.

Ezra looked at Kanan, and wished that Kanan could look back. A burst of eye contact could replace a whole conversation, sometimes; it could communicate his feelings, and allow the other person to send reassurance, or commiserations, or even just an indifferent shrug. He missed having that with Kanan.

He was going to miss it even more when…

Hera was on her way. There was no backing out now.

He felt sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: telling Hera...

**Author's Note:**

> Beta, as well as so many concepts and ideas (including the Dokma racing) by [Pom_Rania](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Pom_Rania/pseuds/Pom_Rania)


End file.
